


The Librarian Sings

by Firondoiel



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Semi-Public Sex, Size Kink, Strength Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:41:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29440617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firondoiel/pseuds/Firondoiel
Summary: Professor Jinn has been making frequent visits to the university library just to see a certain auburn-haired librarian for months now, but has never mustered up the courage to even ask for his name.On a night out with a colleague at the local bar, his world is turned upside down when hears the young man sing.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 144
Collections: QuiObi Secret Valentines 2021





	The Librarian Sings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hamiloki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hamiloki/gifts).



> Happy Valentine's Day! Thank you for such a fantastic prompt!! I didn't feel like I had enough time to do a slow burn justice, so I tried to hint at it happening before the fic and ran with your second suggestion about the alley. ;)
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

“Isn’t that your librarian over there?”

Qui-Gon turned to follow Mace’s nod, skimming over the crowd of faces packed into the bar. Tuesday night drink specials always brought in plenty of students as well as professors. Qui-Gon noticed a group of students from one of his classes around one table, but he moved on from them quickly. 

There. In the opposite corner, all the way across the bar, sat the librarian with the grey eyes. 

“You ever find out his name?” 

“No.” Qui-Gon’s gaze turned wistful. The friends surrounding the librarian were all younger, including the age-appropriate man with a handsome face and long, dreadlocked hair sitting a little too close in Qui-Gon’s opinion. Smiled a little too widely, and definitely touched the librarian’s shoulder too many times. 

“Well, you can’t very well ask now.” Mace’s voice pulled him back. “You’ve only been showing up to the library every day since August to check out his ass along with whatever books you pretend you need.” 

Qui-Gon smiled sheepishly. It was now late March. 

“We talk sometimes.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” Mace chuckled. “It seems about right that you would go for a man surrounded by books who will discuss environmental history with you.”

“We discuss more than that.” Qui-Gon remembered every conversation held at the reference desk over the last several months. “His knowledge is remarkable.”

“So is yours,” Mace countered. 

“I think he surpasses me.”

“Yes, but you’re biased. Too busy making moon eyes to really listen.”

“Not at all. He challenges me on many things.” Qui-Gon glanced back at the far corner. “He can be a very spirited debater.” 

“Good,” Mace downed his third drink of the evening. “You need someone just as stubbornly opinionated as you.” 

“You’re going a little deep tonight, aren’t you?” Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow when Mace ordered another beer. 

“Long day.” Mace scowled and gestured towards the karaoke machine. “And those Gaga wannabes offend me.”

Qui-Gon agreed with him on that. To put it kindly, the student currently at the mic sounded quite off-key. Like a dying toad to put it honestly. 

However, Qui-Gon’s attention quickly went back to the other table. The distance was too great to see clearly, but Qui-Gon could picture the warm smile that must be on the librarian’s face. The one that lit up his eyes and brought out his dimples, although it probably shifted into his cheeky grin whenever he got in a lighthearted jab at one of his friend’s expense.

“Gonna stare at him all night?” 

“Mace…” 

“Have another beer, Qui.” 

With a sigh, Qui-Gon accepted the pint and tried to forget about the man in the corner, but it was useless. This time when he looked back, the librarian was already staring back at him. They locked eyes. Qui-Gon took a sharp inhale. 

The librarian nodded and gave a little wave. Qui-Gon breathed out and nodded back, hoping Mace wasn’t watching. 

After that, he threw himself into conversation with an increasingly-tipsy Mace. Determined not to ogle like a degenerate. The man deserved a fun night out without being bothered by his stares. 

“Oh, this should be good. Look who’s the next Gaga.” 

Qui-Gon chuckled at Mace’s continued obsession with karaoke, but that laughter died in his throat when he saw the librarian standing at the mic. 

He couldn’t name the feeling that went through him at the sound of the young man’s voice. A shiver followed by a flash of heat. The abandonment on the librarian’s face as he gave himself over to the music, every lyric sounding with honesty and vulnerability. It pulled at something in Qui-Gon’s chest, making his breath catch at the open warmth and power of that clear tenor voice as it swelled on the higher notes. But the softness of the final phrases made him lean forward, absolutely captivated and helpless to resist the librarian pulling him in to his performance. 

No, he had no idea what to call the emotions sweeping through him. There were too many at once. But he knew he would never forget this moment, even if he would never be able to recall the name of the song the librarian sang. 

Just as the last phrase faded away, the man opened his eyes to immediately lock gazes with Qui-Gon. The small, gentle smile that Qui-Gon loved crossed his face. A smile that was just for him. 

When the man broke eye contact to grin and nod at the applauding audience, Qui-Gon exhaled and downed the rest of his pint. 

“You’ve got it bad, Jinn.” Mace smirked knowingly at him. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Mace snorted, a little too loudly. “You may be a brilliant scholar of history, but you’re a stupid bastard in your own life.” 

“What are you trying to say, Mace?” Qui-Gon tried to scowl at his friend’s obvious amusement. 

“I’m saying go ask him out. Get his number. See if he wants to come over and examine your ridiculously large…”

“Mace,” Qui-Gon warned. 

“...library.” Mace shrugged. “I’m sure he’d enjoy having a go at your collection. Especially your thick-”

“For fuck’s sake, Mace.” 

“What? You don’t think he’d be interested in that first edition of _Don Quixote_ you have? I do. Bet he wouldn’t mind blowing the dust off before fingering through it.” 

“No one says that.”

“Fine. Just the thumb then.”

Qui-Gon stood. “I’m going home now.”

“Don’t forget to check out the librarian on your way out.” 

“Goodnight, Mace.” Qui-Gon reached for his messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Tonight’s drinks are on you.” 

“Fine by me. Just so long as something else is on you tonight.” 

“Get fucked, Mace.”

“I wish you would.” 

Mace’s laughter followed after Qui-Gon as he worked his way to the door. Qui-Gon shook his head. His friend was obnoxious and embarrassing, but their decades-long friendship meant that they knew each other too well. There was no hiding an infatuation from him. Damn him. 

It was absurd. He knew nothing would ever come of his interest, but there was no harm indulging in a bit of fantasy from time to time. In reality, he was more than content with his visits to the library for casual conversation with a fascinating man. A fascinating man, with a beautiful face, hair that begged to have fingers run through it, and now a voice that would no doubt encore in his dream, as well as an ass that-

“Professor Jinn!” 

The librarian stepped in front of him, blocking his path to the exit. 

“Good evening.” Qui-Gon felt the ridiculous smile taking over his face. 

“I was surprised to see you here.” The librarian smiled back; the small, delighted grin he made when something excited him. “I wanted to say hello before you left. See what it was like to speak to you without a desk between us.” 

The tips of Qui-Gon’s ears burned. He spared a second of gratitude for his long hair. “My colleague and I have been coming here on Tuesdays for many years, ever since we started working at the university.” He purposefully did not specify what number of years

“I see.” The librarian looked behind Qui-Gon, towards where Mace sat finishing another beer. “A longstanding date.”

Qui-Gon laughed. “A tradition really. He’s a good friend, if somewhat annoying at times. I believe he sees Tuesdays as a chance to needle me for his amusement.” 

“Ah, it’s good to have close friends.” The librarian’s dimples appeared. “However trying they may be.”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon agreed thoughtlessly, suddenly in danger of losing himself in his librarian’s eyes, wondering if he could somehow ask for his name.

The handsome, _young_ man from the librarian’s table jostled into Qui-Gon as he walked between them. “Take it easy, Obi-Wan.” He ignored Qui-Gon on his way out the door, but Qui-Gon couldn’t feel annoyed. Not when the upstart had finally answered the question that had tortured him every night in recent memory.

“Goodnight, Quin.” Obi-Wan answered, but didn’t take his eyes away from Qui-Gon. “He’s my good but obnoxious friend. I only came here tonight because I was tired of him daring me to sing karaoke.”

“Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon tried the name on his lips, speaking slowly, reverently. A thrill went through him as he spoke it.

“Yes?” Obi-Wan looked at him expectantly.

“Your performance tonight was...stunning.” Qui-Gon winced inwardly as he fumbled for words. 

“Oh, thank you.” Obi-Wan’s smile widened. “It’s just a hobby. 

“It could easily be more, with a voice like that. Captivating.” 

Obi-Wan’s cheeks colored, and he ducked his head. Qui-Gon worried that he had said something offensive. He searched for an apology, but then Obi-Wan’s grey eyes were fixed on him again, and a hand was on his arm. 

“Join me outside for a cigarette?” 

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out, so he could only nod dumbly, but Obi-Wan looked pleased. He turned around and walked towards the door. Qui-Gon followed, his arm feeling strangely cold in the warm spring night without Obi-Wan’s touch. 

The sudden quiet after the noise of the bar immediately relaxed Qui-Gon, releasing tension he didn’t know he was holding. 

Obi-Wan walked to the corner of the building to allow for an appropriate distance from the bar’s entrance. The streetlight fell across his face, highlighting his profile to Qui-Gon’s admiring eye until Obi-Wan looked back at him, silent. Qui-Gon wondered if he was out of cigarettes and was looking to him for one. 

“I don’t smoke,” Qui-Gon offered a little awkwardly.

A slow smile appeared on Obi-Wan’s face, one Qui-Gon had never seen, but the glint in Obi-Wan’s eyes struck him in the heart.

“Neither do I.” 

Lips were on his. _Obi-Wan_ was kissing him. Stretching up on his toes and grabbing at Qui-Gon’s shoulders, just to kiss _him_. 

When Qui-Gon didn’t react, Obi-Wan pulled away. “I’m sorry.” He took a step back, concern wrinkling his forehead. “I thought that-” 

For once, Qui-Gon didn’t think. He reeled Obi-Wan back in, one arm around the slender waist and one hand buried in auburn hair. Obi-Wan stiffened in surprise, but quickly melted against him and moaned against Qui-Gon’s lips, wrapping his arms around Qui-Gon’s neck. 

The sound of a door opening and drunken voices spilling into the night startled them both.

“Damn it.” Qui-Gon broke away and glanced behind him towards the bar. 

“Are you alright?” 

“I have students inside. They…” He trailed off when he looked back at Obi-Wan. The young man was slightly flushed, his lips pink, and his breath fast. Qui-Gon blamed the beers for loosening his tongue. “Christ, lad. You’re beautiful.” 

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened and his lips parted. “Oh…” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Obi-Wan took his wrist. “Don’t be.” 

They were kissing again. Qui-Gon didn’t know who moved first, and he honestly didn’t care. He had spent too much time not having Obi-Wan in his arms, where the smaller man fit perfectly. 

A catcall came from across the street. Another rude interruption. 

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan muttered hoarsely. “We should go.” 

Qui-Gon nodded, even as he found himself leaning in again, but Obi-Wan grinned and laid a single finger over Qui-Gon’s lips to stop him. His finger tasted like the nuts the bar served in little bowls. Qui-Gon lapped at the saltiness. 

“Fuck.” Obi-Wan’s eyes darkened. 

“Sorry.” Qui-Gon made himself step back, realizing the uncomfortable tightness in his pants was going to make walking home difficult. 

Obi-Wan seemed to notice as well, his burning gaze lowering to Qui-Gon’s crotch while his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He flushed again when he realized he was staring. 

“I’m s-”

“No more apologizing.” Qui-Gon chuckled breathlessly, and Obi-Wan smiled. They paused a moment, looking at each other in silence--wanting the same thing but neither knowing who should make the next step. 

The bar door opened again. 

Obi-Wan grabbed Qui-Gon’s hand and yanked him around the corner of the building, into the alley.

Free of voyeuristic eyes, Qui-Gon dove in for another kiss, hungry, demanding. His tongue plunged into Obi-Wan’s mouth. Obi-Wan clutched at Qui-Gon’s shirt, whimpering and trying to pull him closer. 

Stumbling, Qui-Gon’s thigh shoved between Obi-Wan’s legs, rubbing against his hardened cock. Obi-Wan cried out softly at the sudden contact, his fingers threatening to rip the buttons on Qui-Gon’s shirt. 

Qui-Gon shuddered at the sound and purposefully rocked against him, hoping to hear it again. Obi-Wan did not disappoint him. 

“Sweet Christ.” Qui-Gon moved onto Obi-Wan’s neck, nipping and sucking his way down the side. 

“Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan moaned.

At the sound of his name on Obi-Wan’s lips, Qui-Gon turned them both and pushed Obi-Wan’s back against the wall, groaning when he felt Obi-Wan’s cock jerk against his thigh. 

Obi-Wan arched, pressing back against him. He sunk his fingers into Qui-Gon’s long hair and tried to pull him into another kiss, but Qui-Gon refused to budge, not until he had marked Obi-Wan’s pale throat. 

Easily moving onto a different tactic--one that did see the demise of Qui-Gon’s buttons--Obi-Wan got his hands on bare skin. He smoothed his palms over Qui-Gon’s chest, outlined the swell of his pecs, firm under a thin layer of softness.

“I knew it,” Obi-Wan hummed.

“What?” Qui-Gon didn’t look up, too engaged with nosing Obi-Wan’s collar aside to make room for his lips.

“That you had muscles under those professor blazers.” 

“I’m not exactly ripped.” 

“I’m glad.” Obi-Wan pressed a kiss into Qui-Gon’s hair. “I just imagined you being strong enough to hold me up.”

Qui-Gon froze. 

Then he grabbed Obi-Wan’s waist and lifted him up against the wall, a growl tearing from his throat. Obi-Wan yelped, but quickly wrapped his legs around Qui-Gon, allowing him to move his hands down to knead Obi-Wan’s ass. He groaned. It really was just as perfect as it looked. 

“Ah, fuck me,” Obi-Wan whispered hoarsely. 

If Qui-Gon thought he had been hard before, he was wrong. His pants tightened to the point of pain. “I wish we could,” he gasped out. 

Obi-Wan bucked his hips, rubbing their crotches together and moaning when he felt Qui-Gon’s length pressing against him. “We could.”

“Obi-Wan…”

“Finger me.” 

Qui-Gon’s hands squeezed hardly at Obi-Wan’s ass. “ _What?_?” 

“Please?” Obi-Wan rocked against him again. 

Too aroused to be shocked at his own behavior. Qui-Gon supported Obi-Wan with one hand and undid his jeans with the other, loosening them enough to slip his fingers inside. They slipped easily into Obi-Wan’s quivering little pucker. It was still tight, but the muscles were already relaxed and...was that lube?

“Ah, I was…” Obi-Wan flushed darkly enough that Qui-Gon could see it in the dim light. “...having some...uh...time to myself earlier when Quin knocked on my door unannounced to drag me here.” 

“Very impolite.” Qui-Gon smirked.

“Downright uncivilized.” 

“I should thank him though.” 

“Probably.”

Qui-Gon scissored his fingers inside Obi-Wan’s hole, stretching the muscles further. “It will still be a tight fit.” 

“I like it that way.” Obi-Wan rasped against Qui-Gon’s lips, going in for a long, wet kiss. 

Sanity became almost impossible to grasp, but Qui-Gon tried. “Do you have protection?” 

Obi-Wan laughed. “I can already tell that my condoms aren’t going to fit you, Professor.” 

Fuck. Obi-Wan calling him that had heat raging through him. 

Qui-Gon plunged in a third finger, muffling Obi-Wan’s shout with his mouth as he began to fuck his fingers in and out of Obi-Wan’s hole. 

“What- _ah_...” Obi-Wan pulled his head away. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to make you come.” Qui-Gon licked up the side of Obi-Wan’s neck and bit his earlobe. “Even if I can’t fuck you here.” 

Obi-Wan shuddered. “Wait,” he said with difficulty, and Qui-Gon instantly paused. 

“Are you al-”

“I’m clean.”

All of the air left Qui-Gon’s lungs. Obi-Wan looked at him, eyes heavy with want and trust. 

“I am too.”

Obi-Wan’s lips curled into a sinful, lusty smile. “Then fuck me.” 

The next few minutes were a blur. Somehow, Qui-Gon opened his own pants enough to pull out his aching cock and lowered Obi-Wan’s pants enough to expose his hole. He had to sloppily slick his erection with precome and raise Obi-Wan’s legs until he was nearly bent in half, but then he was pressing into that tight, sweet warmth. 

He would later remember flashes of long, hard thrusts that rapidly became quick and desperate. Qui-Gon crushed their lips together, swallowing all of Obi-Wan’s cries and whimpers and stifling his own deep grunts. 

Neither of them could last. All those months of pent-up longing refused to hold back any longer. 

They were both gasping and sweaty as they tried to come down from the frenzy that had overtaken them. Obi-Wan’s legs lowered to lock around Qui-Gon’s waist again, but Qui-Gon was mostly using the wall to keep them both upright. 

Once he could manage one long, deep breath, Qui-Gon sought out Obi-Wan’s lips again. 

“Have dinner with me tomorrow?” he whispered, marveling how this question made him nervous after what just happened. 

“Yes.” Obi-Wan’s smile was a little lopsided, but blinding. Qui-Gon had to lean in to kiss it. When they parted, Obi-Wan gave him one more small peck and murmured, “I would be up for breakfast first though.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Morning, Qui-Gon,” Mace grunted at him over his coffee cup.

“Good morning,” Qui-Gon answered as he sat opposite his friend in the faculty lounge. “How’s the hangover?”

“Never better.” Mace scowled. “And how was the rest of your sad, lonely night?”

“Uneventful.” Qui-Gon waited until Mace started to drink his coffee. “Except for the quick fuck in the alley outside the bar.”

Mace choked.

“And then once again at home.” Qui-Gon grinned darkly. “Well, twice more if you count the shower this morning.”

“Fucking hell, Jinn. Shut up.”


End file.
